Despite her reservations about Kuroha Akira's questionable motives, Shirai Shiori couldn't deny one uncomfortable truth: his appreciation for reading appeared genuine.
More troubling still, the specific books he'd selected from her collection actually impressed her.
Oh... He chose those... So he does have some taste after all.
She'd half-expected him to gravitate toward the youthful angst novels she'd used as shelf-fillers—those shallow imitations of popular literature she'd purchased years ago when first learning to dissect writing styles.
Decent descriptions, flowery vocabulary, but content so hollow it made rice crackers seem substantial. She'd read each once, copied useful sentences, and never touched them again. No collection value whatsoever.
Originally destined for the used bookstore, they'd been diverted to the Literary Club when she realized Asato Hitomi's newly acquired club room lacked even basic shelf presence. Now they sat gathering dust, serving their purpose as visual filler while remaining universally unread—even by their owner.
Shirai Shiori believed no work was inherently noble or base. But aesthetic taste absolutely possessed hierarchy.
If Kuroha had grabbed those overwrought romance novels, it would have confirmed him as precisely the shallow type who resonated with sentimental melodrama. In her observation, romance-obsessed students particularly favored such works—perhaps seeking validation for their own dramatic emotional lives. She couldn't relate.
But below that layer sat her actual collection. Books she genuinely loved. Works she purchased in duplicate: one copy for personal reading and collecting, another specifically to lend... though "specifically to lend" had thus far meant "permanently shelved due to lack of interested borrowers."
Asato prioritized academics. Moe found difficult books intimidating. Her two closest friends shared zero enthusiasm for her literary passions, a quiet disappointment she'd learned to accept.
New members would eventually join the Literary Club, she'd reasoned. Future kindred spirits would justify transporting these volumes to school.
She just never expected that kindred spirit to be Kuroha Akira.
Thus her current emotional state resembled a particularly unpleasant weather pattern: strong dislike for his flirtatious pickup artist behavior warring with reluctant recognition of their shared literary ground.
Why did it have to be this specific person who appreciated good books?
Was he like Dazai Osamu—literary types always melancholic, therefore always romantic?
Absolutely not! He certainly wasn't!
Shirai Shiori violently ejected that disturbing thought from her mental space. Since when did she start trying to understand him?!
If he genuinely liked Asato, wanting more than one woman made him a scumbag. Textbook definition. The kind who'd juggle multiple relationships without conscience.
Her priority remained protecting Moe! No way would she let an unprincipled man harm her gentle, innocent friend!
And indirectly, this protected Asato too—preventing cheating and heartbreak. Speaking of which, if Kuroha truly was the man Asato liked, then someone needed to properly manage him!
Sometimes Shirai Shiori found Asato Hitomi's thought processes genuinely baffling. But she understood that family background had shaped her friend's slightly... unconventional values. As a friend, her role was understanding and acceptance, not judgment.
Still.
...
"I advise against eating potato chips while reading. If I catch you getting crumbs on those books, you'll pay."
Shirai fixed him with a flat stare.
"Don't worry about that. I don't even have money for potato chips. Currently, my only daily sustenance comes from the Class Representative's bento."
The bento mention triggered sudden recollection—a gossip piece she'd glimpsed on the News Club bulletin board that morning. Her eyes narrowed.
"Speaking of which, Asato" She turned to Asato Hitomi. "Did you eat lunch with him in the courtyard today?"
"Yes, I mentioned yesterday." Asato Hitomi's response carried no defensiveness. "Kuroha-kun and I have an arrangement. As compensation for recruiting him to the Literary Club, I prepare his lunch bentos."
She's cooking for him. Asato, you've truly been completely captivated.
"Did you see the News Club's bulletin?" Shirai pressed. "Photos of you two together have circulated. Specifically... photos of you eating together."
She couldn't bring herself to elaborate. The image showed Asato Hitomi using her own chopsticks to feed Kuroha Akira—a level of intimacy commonly known as "feeding play." The kind of interaction exclusively belonging to couples.
Friends didn't feed each other! That was disgustingly sweet!
Kuroha's eyebrows shot upward with obvious delight. "Huh? There are photos? Isn't unauthorized photography illegal?"
"The News Club collaborates with the Photography Club, which has Student Council permission to photograph school scenery." Shirai's tone dripped with you-brought-this-on-yourself. "Blame yourselves for lacking situational awareness."
"The News Club's connections are disturbingly extensive..." Kuroha's shoulders slumped in theatrical defeat. The Literary Club truly seemed at odds with the entire school ecosystem.
Asato Hitomi, conversely, appeared entirely unbothered. She tapped her cheek thoughtfully, almost eagerly.
"Oh~ I got photographed? I'll request a copy from the Photography Club later."
"..."
Shirai Shiori stood momentarily speechless.
It's over. Asato is beyond saving. The love virus has achieved complete systemic infection.
Unacceptable. Simply unacceptable.
Summoning her courage, Shirai raised the terrible rumor she'd initially hoped to ignore.
"And... I also heard you two visited the infirmary together?"
Kuroha scratched his head with practiced helplessness. "It's already spread that far?"
Shirai's eyes widened behind her glasses.
It was TRUE?!
They'd gone to the infirmary and... done THAT?!
Kuroha, recognizing the direction of her thoughts, moved quickly to dispel assumptions. No need for club members to absorb baseless rumors.
"I went to catch up on sleep due to sleep deprivation. The Class Representative simply accompanied me. Nothing happened. If you doubt me, verify with Ono-sensei. I swear absolutely nothing occurred."
Well.
Almost nothing.
Lap pillow and foot rub had definitely occurred.
But that didn't count, right?
Just friends looking out for friends.
"Hmph."
It better be nothing.
If something had actually happened, Shirai Shiori might have felt compelled to explore castration options.
Daring to become physically intimate with Asato at school?! If they needed intimacy, they should visit a love hotel or each other's homes like civilized people!
Unfortunately, Shirai Shiori possessed what might generously be called an "active imagination." Once the possibility entered her mind, her brain refused to release it. She found herself involuntarily visualizing Kuroha Akira and Asato Hitomi in... compromising scenarios.
"Class Representative... you're so beautiful."
"Oh, Kuroha-kun... don't call me that now... That's for hiding from others, isn't it?"
"I know, Asato. My dearest Asato. Come—today we'll reach the shore of happiness together."
"Ah... Kuroha-kun... Akira-kun... don't... don't look at me... I'm so embarrassed..."
"Don't be shy. Let me see you properly. I'll memorize every detail of your entire body, never forgetting until the day I die."
"Mm... I want you to see... So you must always look at me... and make me happy, okay?"
"I'll make you the happiest woman in the world."
"Mm... Ah... Akira-kun... I love you... I love you most of all..."
....
"Shiori?" Asato Hitomi's concerned voice shattered the fantasy. "Your face is red. Is the room too warm? I'll open a window."
THUD.
Shirai Shiori's forehead connected violently with the table surface.
AHHHHHHH!
WHAT WAS SHE IMAGINING?!
But this could happen! It might have already happened!
Asato... has been defiled!
Kuroha Akira...!
She hated him!